His Daughter's Laughter (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Hudson, Janis Reams

  Watching the blood drain from his daughter’s face as she recognized her grandparents was like getting kicked in the gut by an angry stallion. Carly had been right. Amanda wasn’t ready for this.

  “Well, now.” Arthur’s gaze darted swiftly around the room, assessing the situation. “Isn’t this a surprise?” he said carefully, slowly.

  Another pot on the fire, Tyler thought. His dad had never cared for the Tomlinsons, and that was putting it mildly.

  Earline bent down beside her husband and held out her arms to Amanda. “Hello, dear. Come, let me give you a hug.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, Amanda lowered her backpack to the floor and stepped obediently into her grandmother’s em- brace, her gaze flying to Tyler then Carly, then back to Tyler, her eyes filled with distress. God, he should have found a way to spare her this.

  “Hello, darling,” Howard said.

  Amanda offered her grandfather a shaky smile that quickly faltered.

  Seeing her distress and confusion, Tyler took a deep breath and strove for normalcy. He forced a grin. “Come here, you.” He swooped Amanda up in his arms and gave her a squeeze. “Let me get you all dirty and smelly. You’re much too clean after a night in town. Did you have fun?”

  She gave him a slight nod and shy smile. God, Amanda hadn’t been shy about a single thing since she’d stopped wearing those frilly dresses.

  He planted a big kiss on her cheek. “Missed you, sweet- pea.” Looking toward his father, he asked, “How’d you get back so fast? You just left”

  Arthur shrugged. “Met Bev on the road to town. Little Emily came down with a cold, and Bev thought she’d better get Amanda away from her before she caught it.”

  Tyler peered at Amanda. “You gonna catch Emily’s cold?”

  Amanda gave him a smile and shook her head.

  “Good.” He gave her another kiss.

  She hugged his neck sweetly, then he let her slide down his leg. She turned and practically threw herself at Carly.

  “Amanda?” Earline called softly.

  Carly knelt and gave Amanda a noisy hug, keeping the girl from turning toward her grandmother. “Why don’t you run up to your room and take care of that stuff?” Carly nodded toward Amanda’s backpack. “Have you had lunch?”

  Amanda nodded, relief flooding her face. She cast a swift look at her grandparents. As she glanced away, her eyes held a haunted look.

  “Okay, then,” Carly told her. “When you come back down, you can have those last two cookies I saved for you. Now, scoot,” she added.

  The minute Amanda hit the stairs, Carly turned toward the Tomlinsons and met their twin glares. Wanting to shield her from their wrath, Tyler started to step between her and them, but Carly cut him off.

  “Tyler told you over the phone that Amanda wasn’t comfortable with hearing from you just yet,” she said firmly.

  The fire of battle lighting her eyes made Tyler’s chest swell with pride.

  “As I explained, it’s not you that’s the problem,” Carly told them. “She loves you both. But she’s still suffering guilt over whatever she did that she thinks was so terrible. It centers around her mother, and she associates the two of you closely with her, and obviously with her own guilt. I really don’t think your visit just now is a good idea.”

  Howard took a menacing step toward Carly that had Ty- ler moving to stand beside her. “And as I told Tyler, you obviously have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re nothing more than a child yourself, unqualified to be giving out unwanted advice. I should have you arrested for prac- ticing medicine without a license.”

  “That’s it,” Tyler shouted. “No more. You’ll leave now.”

  “Wait, Tyler,” Carly said, her voice soft yet firm. She kept her gaze on Howard and raised her chin a notch. “First off, Mr. Tomlinson, I’m thirty years old. The only person I’ll put up with calling me a child is my own mother. Sec- ond, if I were unqualified to help Amanda, one of the coun- try’s foremost child psychologists would not have recom- mended me for the job.”

  For the first time since Tyler had met her, Carly was sticking up for herself. Not for Amanda, not for him, but for herself. Bittersweet emotion filled him that she had need to do so in his own home.

  “I’ve worked with other children in the past. I’ve faced problems in my own life similar to what Amanda is going through, so I understand better than most what she’s feel- ing. I believe in a few more weeks, when she’s emotionally stronger, she’ll want very much to see you. When her voice returns, she’ll want to talk with you on the phone. But right now the absolute last thing on earth she needs is to be reminded of her supposed guilt, which is what your presence is doing. Second only to that, she cannot, must not be subjected to the hostility in this room.”

  Tyler wanted to applaud, he wanted to shout, he wanted to kiss her right then and there. He had to give Howard credit, the man was making every effort to control himself. The struggle on his face was obvious. Just when Tyler thought the old goat had managed to reel in his sharp tongue, Howard opened his damned big mouth again.

  “The books I’ve read on the subject—”

  “Books?” Carly cried. “Bravo! Give the man a cigar. He’s read books. We’re not talking about books, Mr. Tom- linson, we’re talking about a lost little girl who needs every break she can get to deal with having her entire world torn apart by a tragic accident for which she somehow manages to blame herself.”

  “What you’re saying is, you haven’t studied from books.”

  “Of course I have. But I’ve also lived the anguish, the pain, the guilt myself, and I’ve learned to deal with it. I’ve helped several other children deal with it.”

  “We’re not talking about other children,” Howard said, his voice rising. He took another threatening step toward Carly. “We’re talking about my grandchild.”

  Just as Tyler once again prepared to step between the two, Amanda flew into the room and shoved against her grandfather’s legs until he staggered backward. Then she shoved again, backing him up even farther.

  Gone was all trace of the shy, uncertain child. No guilt marked her expression as she glared at the man. Mouth pursed in obvious anger, she planted her tiny fists against her waist and turned a look on Carly, then Tyler.

  Her eyes questioned him hotly, then she did something he didn’t understand at all. She lifted one foot from the floor and swung it back and forth.

  “I don’t understand, sweetpea.”

  Brow furrowed, she looked at Carly.

  “What is it, honey?” Carly asked. “What are you trying to say?”

  Frustrated, Amanda stomped to Tyler’s side and pointed toward his foot, then lifted her own again and swung it back and forth.

  Beside him, Carly gave a sudden squeak. Tyler watched as her eyes widened. She looked like she was strangling on, of all improbable things, laughter.

  “Amanda,” she said, choking, “I don’t think—”

  Amanda cut her off by stamping her foot. Good God, she actually stamped her foot. Tyler couldn’t remember the last time his daughter had felt enough self-confidence to get angry, let alone show it.

  With a determined glare, Amanda tugged on the crease of his jeans until he lifted his foot for her, then she jerked until he made the same swinging motion she had shown him. Next she dropped his foot, stomped across the room to Howard, and knelt beside his legs. With a sharp nod, she slapped her hand against the man’s shin.

  “This is ridiculous,” Howard said. “The child is obvi- ously so confused she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  Amanda glared up her grandfather’s long, lean length. Then she looked at Tyler again and started a new set of motions. She curled her lips down in an exaggerated frown, then brought her fists to her eyes to indicate crying. She pointed to Carly, repeated the crying gesture, then pointed to herself and repeated it again.

  Then she pointed to Tyler, then his boot, and slapped her grandfather’s leg once more.

  In
a horrified, hilarious flash, Tyler understood. “Oh, God.” His sudden hoot of laughter earned him another squeak from Carly, a grin and eager nod from Amanda, and shocked, furious glares from Howard and Earline. Arthur, from where he leaned against the door to the mudroom with his arms folded across his chest, watched the entire scene with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

  Tyler finally managed to control his laughter. “You’re absolutely right,” he told his daughter. “He deserves that and more for being mean to Carly. But I think Carly was right, he added with an uncontrollable grin and a shake of his head. “It’s really not nice to kick people in the shins.”

  Carly folded her lips in on each other, mashing them flat to hold in her laughter.

  From the doorway, Arthur choked and cleared his throat

  Howard and Earline gasped in unified shock.

  Amanda gave her father the most disgusted, perturbed frown he’d ever seen on a child.

  “However…” He held out his hand. When she took it, he swung her up in his arms. “I think Carly’s alternate suggestion the last time the topic came under discussion was highly appropriate.”

  Can we? Can we? Amanda mouthed eagerly.

  “You bet we can, sweetpea. On three?”

  She giggled silently and nodded.

  Carly slapped a hand over her mouth while her eyes bulged.

  Tyler shifted Amanda in his arms until the two of them faced her grandparents. “Ready?”

  With narrowed eyes, Amanda gave a sharp nod.

  “Okay. One…two…three.”

  Tyler and Amanda turned toward her grandparents and simultaneously stuck out their tongues.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Good God,” Howard cried.

  “Yes.” Tyler laughed as Amanda sidled down his leg and took hold of his hand. “God is good, Amanda Barnett’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, Carly Baker’s a won- derful woman, and all is right with the world.”

  “Howard.” Earline placed a perfectly manicured hand dramatically across her breast as if for protection—or to show off her rings. “I do believe they’ve all gone mad in this house.”

  “And I believe,” Tyler said, sobering, “there have been more than enough insults flying in this house today to last a lifetime. If the two of you would care to get a room in town for the night, maybe we can get together tomorrow with a little more civility than we’re all currently capable of.”

  Earline blinked. “Howard, he’s throwing us out.”

  “How perceptive of you,” Tyler drawled.

  “You,” Howard said fiercely, jabbing a finger in Tyler’s direction, “have not heard the end of this. Not by half. I’ll not have my granddaughter brought up in such a disgusting atmosphere.”

  “Well, now, I don’t think you have anything to say about how my daughter is raised.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Tomlinson said, ushering Ear- line out the door. “We’ll just see about that.”

  “Okay, okay, so maybe we shouldn’t have done it,” Tyler admitted over supper.

  “No comment.” Carly kept her gaze locked firmly on the mound of mashed potatoes before her, not daring to look up. If she looked up, she knew she’d break out laugh- ing again.

  “We really shouldn’t have done it. You know that, don’t you, sweetpea?” he asked Amanda.

  From the corner of her eye, Carly saw Amanda give a sober acknowledgment.

  Then she heard the grin in Tyler’s voice. “Felt good, though, didn’t it?”

  The grin Amanda had been fighting finally broke free.

  Carly allowed herself to look up and chuckle with the others. Even Arthur was laughing.

  “Unfortunately,” Carly said, “all it accomplished was to hurt their feelings and make them angry. They came because they were concerned about Amanda and wanted to see how she was doing.”

  “That doesn’t excuse the way they just walked in—”

  Cheeks stinging over what the Tomlinsons had walked in on, Carly averted her gaze from Tyler’s.

  “—nor the way they acted after that.”

  “Ol’ Howard was a mite overbearing,” Arthur offered.

  Carly knew, or hoped fervently, that Arthur had no idea what she and Tyler had been doing when the Tomlinsons had surprised them. Still, she couldn’t quite look him in the eye.

  “Overbearing?” Tyler claimed with a snort “He was an out-and-out—”

  Carly interrupted with a loud clearing of her throat and a sharp glance from Tyler to Amanda.

  “Anyway,” Tyler said, looking at Amanda, “if they come back, are we gonna try to be nice to them? They do love you, sweetpea.”

  Amanda frowned at her plate.

  “No need to decide right now,” he offered. “Just think about it. If you don’t want to visit with them just yet, you don’t have to.”

  Relieved gratitude crossed the child’s face as she looked up at her father.

  “As long as we all agree that it’s not nice to stick our tongues out at people, and we really shouldn’t do it any- more. Right?” Tyler asked.

  Amanda pursed her lips and glanced around the room as if suddenly deaf.

  “Amanda.”

  She heaved a sigh, then nodded.

  “All right, then,” Tyler said.

  They spent the rest of the meal talking about Amanda’s overnight stay in town with her cousins, and about her school. Carly was thrilled with the way Amanda had ad- justed in class. Her teacher, it seemed, was wonderfully patient and supportive when dealing with Amanda’s in- ability to speak.

  Tyler had heard from his cousin, Frank, who’d heard from his seven-year-old, Emily, that one boy at recess had made fun of Amanda and called her a dummy. Not only had Amanda doubled up her fists and threatened to punch the much larger boy—Tyler wondered where she’d learned that little bit of self-defense—but all four of her cousins, including Bobby, who usually had no use for girls, had stood up for her.

  Little Emily had told Frank that Cousin Amanda would have no more trouble at school. She had her own personal set of six- and seven-year-old bodyguards.

  Tyler, too, seemed to be getting used to the idea of his baby going to school. He’d surprised Carly when he’d given permission for Amanda to spend the previous night with Emily and Laurie.

  Sudden memories of how last night had progressed on the ranch had the dishes clattering in Carly’s hands as she carried them to the sink. Before she could drop them, she hurriedly set them on the counter. On the exact spot where she’d sat earlier that day and held Tyler’s head to her breast

  That reminder was enough to make her knees weak.

  Two hours after dinner, with Amanda upstairs taking a bath and Arthur in the living room reading a farm-and- ranch equipment catalog, Tyler cornered Carly in the laun- dry room. She was folding towels at the table next to the dryer when his arms came around her from behind without warning.

  Carly had been thinking of him so much, she wasn’t even surprised. She simply sighed and leaned back against his chest.

  He tightened his arms around her just beneath her breasts and pulled her close, then settled his chin on the top of her head. “I was so damned proud of you today,” he told her. “You defied that ol’ bastard better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m afraid all I did was cause more problems.”

  “No, you didn’t You, better than anyone, know what’s best for Amanda. I’m just sorry they didn’t have the cour- tesy to call before they came barging out here.”

  Despite the sudden heat in her cheeks, Carly managed a wry chuckle. “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Speaking of barging…” Tyler turned her around and lifted her onto the table, then nudged his way between her knees. “Where were we when we were so rudely inter- rupted?”

  Carly slid her arms around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. “We were about to do something un- speakable on the kitchen counter.”

  He nestled his hips firmly into the V of her thighs. “Som
ething unspeakably fantastic, you mean. God,” he said hoarsely while hugging her tight. “I’d have given any- thing to keep you from having to face them today. I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  “No more sorry than I am. We lost our chance.”

  With a hand to the small of her back to hold her steady, he nudged his hips against her and groaned. “Lost, hell. We were robbed. Cheated. God, I want you.”

  She could feel the truth of his words in the tightness of his grip, the pounding of his heart beneath her cheek, the hardness of the ridge of flesh pressed so intimately, so erot- ically against the very heat of her. She barely heard her own whimper of need over the roaring of blood rushing in her ears as she flexed her hips against him. “We can’t,” she whispered with a moan. “We can’t.”

  “I know. I know, honey.” And he did know. The rushed secrecy of trying to make love while his daughter and father were only a few feet away wasn’t what he wanted for Carly, nor for himself. But that didn’t keep him from kissing her.

  Her lips parted softly, instantly for him. The kiss was long and hard and desperate, then he tore his mouth from hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take us this far when we can’t finish. I…wanted, needed to feel you against me. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s all right,” she whispered.

  “It’s not all right. You’re trembling.” He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. The stark need he saw in those deep brown depths, darker now with arousal, made his chest tighten. Last night he’d been so intent on the rest of her, he hadn’t noticed how dark her eyes turned when she wanted him. The urge to look into them at the precise moment she came gripped him and wouldn’t let go.

  He slid his hand between her thighs and cupped her, feeling her moist heat even through her jeans. She let out another one of those tiny whimpers that drove him straight toward the edge. His lungs threatened to collapse.

  Fingers flexing against her, he said, “Just because we can’t do it right now doesn’t mean I have to leave you like this. Come here, honey.” He replaced his hand with his hips and pressed himself tightly against her again. “Move against me. Take what you need.”